To Ruffle The World's Feathers
by Renzin
Summary: Beorn has long since escaped thepersecution of theOrcs, but he's not alone, and theCompany discover this when they seek refuge at his home. She's got her head in the clouds, doesn't understand why its odd to spend time with other races and can't understandwhy everyone thinks she's helpless-and who says wargs aren't adorable? Either way, she just needs an excuse to spread her wings!
1. Chapter 1

To Ruffle The World's Feathers

"_Every bird of prey looks over its shoulder before it goes in for the kill, even a hawk. Even they know to watch their backs – every single one but an eagle. It's fearless." _

― Michelle Horst, Wake Me Up

"This way, quickly!" Gandalf's worn boots flew across the ground as he led the company in their haste. "To the house! Run! Keep going!" Behind them, a pack of orc hunters rode for them. Thankfully, he knew that the dweller of the house they were running to was in between them and Azog's orcs. He wasn't too happy that said owner of these lands was chasing after _them _in his…feral state.

As they passed through the outer walls of the large stone house's garden, a ferocious roar sounded far to close for comfort. "Common, hurry inside!" The grey wizard cried, "Open the door!" panic was setting in as he saw the dwarves throw themselves at the giant wooden door. Thankfully, Thorin was calmer than the rest, and pushed his way to the front of the crowd to push open the latch.

Like scurrying rats from the fire, the company rushed inside as the heavy gallops of the huge bear reached them. Its black muzzle trapped itself in between the frame and the door as Dwalin and Kili threw their weight back against it. The great beast howled, but eventually decided that this meal was not worth the splinters it was getting. It squeezed its jaws out so that the door swung shut as the dwarves fell against it. With heavy breaths, they secured it with relived sighs, listening to it lumber away.

Ori's wide eyes swung up to Gandalf in bewilderment, but his gaze fixed on something else behind him. In confusion, Gandalf turned just as the others also noticed the figure.

Up the steps, a tall girl brandished a large sword with two hands at them, the blade the length of a hobbit's own body (Bilbo realised in wariness) and with a large handle that over shadowed her pale hands. Her wide eyes were filled with anticipation, though fear was present as well, and she wore a light grey summer dress that had been ripped to only cover the knees and above. The sleeves were pushed up to the elbows. A man's leather belt was tucked on top of her lower waist, the extra tail tucked down the length of her garment and several other braid strings of thread, beads and leather cords decorated her wrists and ankles. Her hair was wild and dark, with stark white stripes spirally in all directions despite her obvious youth. A nest of feathers had been braided into it, and her feet were bare and severely rough with use.

Ori grasped onto Balin's cloak slowly and said, "Who is this…"

However Gandalf replied again, giving a small bow to the girl with a weary smile. "This is one of our hosts."

The sword was not lowered; though her eyes did narrow and her back straighten. "Beorn never mentioned expecting guests…"

He grimaced in reply, "We would not have bothered you if not for the Orc pack hunting us. Though it seems that Beorn is busy with them at the moment."

The girl cocked her head to the side, listening to the distant howls of bear and warg. Several moments passed as she thought heavily, before the weapon was lowered and she walked further into the house. "He can decide what to do with you in the morning. For tonight, you may rest."

A collective sigh and several words of thanks filled the air, Thorin urging them to set themselves down in the soft hay. Bilbo nervously followed Gandalf in the direction of the girl where he watched him bow deeply and take off his hat towards her. "I am known as Gandalf the Grey and these dwarves and hobbit are my friends. We are very grateful for your generosity."

She nodded with a hesitant smile, looking very confused as to why he had bent at the waist and gestured his hat towards her. "Yes I can see that." Her gaze travelled back down to the dwarves and they started to brightly chatter, Fili and Kili engaged in a rather serious hay fighting game. "My name is Pamola. You have good timing."

Gandalf raised an eyebrow in question. "Oh?"

"Yes," Pamola made her way to the open kitchen. "Tea is almost reading."

Bilbo felt like crying with relief, but instead proclaimed "Finally! Someone else understands the value of meals between main meals!" What were the chances of finding a kindred spirit so far from home?

**Hello readers, thank you for clicking on this story on making it to the end of chapter 1! Did anyone else see the last Hobbit? Truly epic. **

**Please review and tell me what you think! **

**Love, **

**Renzin xo**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"_Baby eagles can never soar under their family's wing." _– Liu Yang

Deep into the night, Bilbo Baggins awoke from his troubled and light sleep to see the heavy boots of their second host enter the house. His thick frame hugged into the shadows, and his height was all the more fearsome to a hobbit on the floor.

There was a pause in the shuffling of hay and floorboards, and Bilbo swore that the great man had taken a pronounced sniff in his direction. But then his slow steady pace was heard moving up the oak stairs, and later Bilbo once more drifted into a slumber listening to their hosts murmuring above.

Later, the hobbit opened his eyes to the optimistic rays of the morning and happy noises of dwarven stomachs. Shaking off stray grains of dust and straw, Bilbo sat up, blinking his eyes at the dreamlike sight before him.

_Breakfast._

Honest to god, several servings, serviette and cutlery a plenty _breakfast. _

As he waddled over, Bofur noticed him. His hat was placed on the back of his chair and with a bright smile he said, "'Morning Bilbo! You fancy a crumpet?"

"Yes," he sighed as he hopped onto his oak chair. "That, would be lovely."

"So the little rabbit is awake as well." A scratchy, deep voice hummed. The hobbit flinched a little at Beorn's gaze and smiled uncertainly.

"We thought you would miss breakfast!" Gloin joked. The rest of the company but for Thorin and Gandalf erupted into laughter.

"But then again we said, 'our hobbit would never miss a meal'!" Kili added.

"The smell of hot bread and jam would never miss Bilbo's nose!" Fili hollered back.

Bilbo nodded his head gingerly along with the laughter, not willing to notice the irony of his already filled plate.

Toasted and seeded bread, thick fresh milk, jams, soups, fruit and dear lord, he'd almost forgotten the taste of unwatered down porridge!

Meanwhile, on he other side of the table, Pamola was scarfing down her soup soaked bread. She sat in between the two brothers of the company, though she still didn't know which was which despite the fact that they had been talking to her the _entire _time.

"And then, he fell right into the boat and flipped the entire thing over!" The blond one roared, merry laughter echoed around the table.

"I _did _not! That was you, Fili, _and _if I remember correctly, your sneezes could be heard all over the mountains!"

"Really?" Fili looked out blankly, cocking his head before he shook it mischievously. "No, I don't think so, Kili. I distinctly remembered the shade of red your nose was!"

"Are you sure it wasn't both of you that tipped the boat?" Pamola suggested with a smirk. Across the table, Balin chuckled and said, "I'm half convinced you were there, Miss."

"Pam's fine for me, master dwarf."

"Then know me as Balin, son of Fundin."

Pam had never seen dwarves before, but they were nothing like Beorn had described to her. In one of his old books, there were drawings and descriptions of the races and lands of Arda and she had tried replicating them. However, none of the company seemed 'greedy, selfish and suspicious' as Beorn called them. They all were gracious for the food and good company, even if Thorin Oakenshield seemed to like brooding. Then again, Beorn seemed to have met many races and hated them all.

Elves of Mirkwood were 'no good and not to be trusted' while their cousins near Rivendell were 'blind to the world outside their paradise'. Wizards were 'too mysterious for their own good', men 'gluttonous and fleeting in heart' and hobbits 'too sheltered, but soft inside'.

Orcs however, Beorn _detested_.

Whenever the subject came about (which was rare as Pam never liked these dark moods), he would growl and snarl, his fists would clench, and she knew that his mind was taking him back to the dark past where he was given the deep scars of whips and shackles.

"_Orcs are the sickness in the depths of the darkness, Pamola. They are birthed and bathed in blood, malicious by nature and cunning in the mind. If you find one, either kill it or flee, for that would be the only service you could perform to benefit."_

Despite all of Beorn's words, Pam couldn't help but be sceptical. She would abhor the orcs responsible for their people's suffering, but not _all _orcs could be evil, right?

She itched to get out of these lands and find out for herself, but he would have none of that. Honestly, the amount he coddled her, you would think that he was her _father. _

Vaguely she noted that Beorn was drawing out his 'to hate the dwarves more than orcs, to hate orcs more than dwarves' debate out loud, but the tense atmosphere didn't dilute the taste of her food. Eventually Beorn let go of the mouse he was holding, and said, "But I hate orcs more." She got up to clean her plate, as if the answer had always been obvious to her.

The company were to stay for several more days to rest and prepare for their journey into Mirkwood. Pam was getting quite frustrated in fact at her lack of knowledge of the world outside Beorn's lands; several times one of the company had asked what she thought of the elves of Mirkwood, and had forced her to admit that she had never laid eyes on them, or for that matter, hadn't seen over a handful of people other than Beorn her entire life.

He had told her of their once strong race of skin changers, who dwelled in the Misty Mountains. Of their constant arguments with goblins, of the blissfully cold mountain air. They had carved their homes with logs and stone, and were one of the oldest of races in Arda, certainly not to be confused with men who had simply learnt witchcraft. And then the orcs had come, enslaved those who could not flee or refused to, while the others disappeared, for that was a trait that they easy mastered, the secrecy.

They were released in arenas to fight for food, kept alive under The Defiler's orders as trophies, until the goblins had had enough of the over crowding mountains and waged battle. Amidst the confusion, the remaining skin changers escaped as the orc settlement became ruin. Beorn made his home at the steps of the forest, while others left to even more secluded lands.

And that was all she knew of her kind. Apparently, Beorn was the brother of her father, the rest of her family unaccounted for or dead. She was born several weeks before their escape in captivity, and due to the fact that she was one of the few who didn't skin change into a bear, was kept alive as a more 'unique' prize. If the Orcs had treated her badly in that time, she did not remember it.

Pam set her tray down on a weathered stump outside the garden wall and whistled with two fingers, so that those outside made their way towards her with smiling faces. Seeing the honey cakes she brought, they rushed forwards hungrily.

"Thank you, Pam!"

"Cheers!"

"Fwnks Pm!"

"Oi Bombur, eat with your mouth closed!"

Really, these ones were too amusing! They were far more interesting due her only being accustomed to Beorn's slow and steady attitude. The two brothers she could see a distance away where several trees made the beginnings of Mirkwood. They seemed to have found her target posts, as both wielded bows and arrows. Eye's lighting up, Pam hurried to get her own and jogged back over to them.

"Mind if I join?" She asked eagerly.

The one she was pretty certain was Kili said, "Only if you can tell my brother here what a terrible shot he is!"

"I am not!" The blonde huffed. "My aim is perfectly average, thanks very much." He turned to Pam with a dramatic sigh. "Being the only archer in the group has gotten to his head, my lady."

Pam raised an excited eyebrow, "Oh really? How about a bet, then. Let's see who hits the most of my targets, eh?"

Kili grinned at the challenge. "Prepare to be beaten, Pam of the Carrock Fields! Don't worry, Fili's got a hankie for your tears."

Had he really just…? Pam's grip on her bow tightened and she grinned toothily back. "Oh _really,_ master dwarf?"

Kili's bow, like him, was short and made of a dark wood Pam didn't recognise. The dwarven design seemed to be thick and more geometrical than the way Beorn had taught her to make them, and Fili's seemed the same (only a beach colour).

Pam's also was distinctly _hers_. She had made many, some after several growth spurts, others out of boredom. Many would be quite beautiful but snap at the slightest tug, yet eventually she had got the feel for what suited her.

Pam's bow was large and also voluptuous, with a leather grip that had been moulded into her handgrip. A large snake skin had been used to cover the entire surface but for the handle, ends and where Pam had taken a knife to cut away at the scales to show the higher grooves of the old rich brown wood below. Several feathers and colourful trinkets were attached to the ends in a bizarre manner, in the same way the tails of her arrows had been fashioned.

The targets she had set up were nothing more than chopped up disks of wood with a white chalk cross on each nailed to the trunks of trees. After Fili decided the distance at which they would shoot from, Kili went first.

His hold on the bow was strong and his grip on the arrow tight until the moment for it to fly, all his movements quite military. All the targets were hit, but for one Fili insisted was off by a hair (and apparently in battle that counted).

Not that Pam would know.

With a charming smile, Kili spun around and bowed out of the way. "_Your _turn, Pam. You can take a rest if you need to in between shots."

"Why thanks." She growled and she stood in place. Her grip looked uncomfortable on the bow, with only the thumb and its joint wedged around the handle, but infact she slowly uncurled her fingers back around the handle at the last moment to steady her aim. It was the way she had always done it and she was perfectly comfortable doing so, but Kili and Fili disagreed.

"How are your hands not raw and numb?" Fili mocked.

"If you want, I can teach you how to properl-" Kili started.

"Look you two, I'm perfectly _fine_ with the way _I_ shoot a bow."

"Of course, love." Kili said with a grin. "Going to show us then, eh?"

"Hn!"

She steadied her breathing, taking comfort in the pressure of the bow on her arm bracer, and then let the arrow free.

Perhaps she had the advantage of no breeze and having trained with these targets many a time, but safe to say, Pam was practically purring with triumph after her turn.

"What were you saying before about my shooting?" she prompted as she collected her arrows.

Fili muttered something about sorcery and cheating, Kili however had a dark look in his eye that made a wary Pam halt in her tracks. "What _are_ you thinking, Kili…"

The dark haired brother shared a look with his confused counterpart and cooed, "Why don't we teach you a bit of paladin combat, eh? Ever used a war hammer, Pam?"

Fili, catching on with an equally cunning smirk said, "Shall I fetch Dwalin then?"

"Of course, brother!"

**Here you go folks, chapter 2! And a belated merry Christmas to you all! **

**Love, **

**Renzin xo**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"_**...I didn't run away to come home the same. -Claudia" **_

― **E.L. Konigsburg, ****From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler**

_**"It is always sad when someone leaves home, unless they are simply going around the corner and will return in a few minutes with ice-cream sandwiches." **_

**Lemony Snicket (Horseradish)**

It was another optimistic morning in the Carrock Fields. The paradise that lay just out of the Elven King's reach was alive with the low hum of animals and dwarves running around the meadow grass.

Pam had been actively avoiding Dwalin as of late; while admittedly she could've put up more of a fight when Fili and Kili dragged her over to 'train' (ie humiliate in revenge) with the experienced axe wielder, she didn't expect Dwalin to actually _enjoy_ it as well. Apparently, watching her hurl a steel hammer with all her body weight and no precision whatsoever was rewarding for him. Perhaps he missed teaching younger souls the ways of war.

Or maybe she was that entertaining to watch, flailing about as such.

So the past few days had involved beating the brothers at archery, avoiding Dwalin, avoiding Beorn's over protective speeches about avoiding the forest, and hoping to catch sight of a few orcs to observe.

At the moment however, Pam was alone. Sore and nursing a bruised ego, but free in the tall grasses that mellowed out all pain. She looked towards the growing cliff side where peeling trees formed the other ledge of Mirkwood; Beorn had been patrolling there in the night as of late, and had forbidden her from even picking up an acorn in the shrubbery over there.

The orc pack was still stalking their guests. Waiting.

As they were now, in broad daylight and open land, they would not attack, and while Beorn guarded them at night, they were safe. It fascinated her how infamous Beorn the skin changer was among the wild race of orcs. Admittedly, they would talk of his capture and slavery, but none would forget that he lead his people's escape. None could compete with his vicious jaws and bone breaking blows.

It was funny for Pam to imagine Beorn being anything but a giant cuddly teddy bear in that form. He was always nervous around her, as if he expected to lose control and tear her to pieces, but of course that never happened. Usually, she just sat and stroked him like an oversized pet until he decided to change again or do something proactive elsewhere.

But she knew what he was capable of, and it seemed so did the orcs.

Pam squinted her eyes, as if the orcs were foolish enough to not hide among the trees. She knew it was in vain, but could you blame he for wanting to site something other than dwarf, wizard, Beorn and hobbit?

A few days ago, the idea of seeing _anyone _other than Beorn would make her dizzy with excitement.

Now, her curiosity was hungry for more.

There was a world outside this paradise, beyond even Mirkwood and the mountains. As much as she loved Beorn, her dear uncle and his lands and peace, Pam looked to the traveller's path that the company were planning to leave them on.

She would not be left behind for long.

Beorn of course, would be hard to trick, but her sanity was at stake here! Because living in such tranquillity was driving her _mad_. She would be blowing raspberries at the wildlife soon if something wasn't done.

She needed a change of scenery, to have her veins bursting with adrenaline and her mind in awe.

Pam needed an _adventure_.

And it just so happened that a certain quest was in progress at her doorstep.

Her keen eyes snapped to a snuffle of movement away from the others in the tall grass, but it was not an orc of any sorts. Pam smiled slightly and trudged her way towards the wilder flowers where Bilbo seemed to be chasing something.

A rabbit, in fact.

It was the laziest rabbit she had ever seen. Rather than whipping away at the slightest danger, it would sprint a few metres and slyly look back at the quite out of breath hobbit. Pam laughed loudly and clapped Bilbo on the back to stop him. "What's driven you to let the forest animals make fun of you, little friend?"

He huffed and rubbed his hands against his waistcoat. "Well, I was in the sort of mood to pet it, but after a moment or so, this rabbit has trotted off!"

"You say it like a crime, Bilbo. You are lucky it let you this close even for a second."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked with a frown.

"It's a wild animal. Do you not have them where you come from?"

"Oh no, we do." He said as we started to stroll away from where the rabbit had disappeared. "But many are kept in Hobbiton as pets for the children to play with. They get rather fat and tame you see. I've often found that petting them stimulates the thought process."

Pam tried to control herself, deciding that Bilbo wouldn't want to be outright laughed at. "Here they have to be fast and swift to survive. The woods are full of hungry mouths and darting eyes, even without your pursuers."

Bilbo grimaced. "I didn't think they'd be so tenacious."

"I have never met or seen an orc, but my uncle says they are cunning. Their hunt will not be called off so easily." She paused and slowly asked, "You travel to the Lonely Mountain, do you not?"

"Yes, that is why we must go through Mirkwood to Lake Town and travel the market road."

"Kili and Fili said something about the dragon, and reclaiming Erebor." Pam snorted at his expression. "Calm down, I was only wondering whether they were spewing fancy tales again."

"Ah, well, no. I mean, yes to what they said, but no to the fact that they were lying. Though, I understand why you thought they may have exaggerated."

"What made you join them?" She asked curiously.

They came upon the rock ledge that separated safety and danger. Bilbo set himself down on an elevated bit of rock and produced his pipe, cleaning it and setting alight a few precious leaves of Toby Beorn had generously supplied.

Having found someone younger and interested in what he had to say, Bilbo adorned what he believed to be a wise and sagely manner as he blew his smoke rings. "Well, that's quite a conundrum in itself. When I first met Gandalf, I was fretting that he would ruin my peace. The dwarves all were informed that I was to be a burglar into the Mountain, and so appeared one night and pillaged my pantry!"

Pam snorted, shaking her head at Bilbo's huffing. "It's true! You wouldn't be laughing if you saw them flinging the china everywhere! Actually, maybe _you_ would."

Once she had calmed down again from her laughing, Bilbo asked her something tentatively. "Beorn is your kin?"

"My uncle, yes Bilbo."

"Then are you…?"

She nodded slowly, sighing as she leaned back into the blanket of grass with her hands behind her head. "Not into a bear however. And I'm not very good at it. I've only skin changed several times in my life, and only for a short amount of time. It's extremely tiring."

"Ah, yes. I…can imagine." Bilbo hummed.

Pam swallowed and carried on. "So, there are no skin changers in…"

"Hobbiton, Shire." Bilbo said automatically. A nostalgic smile came to his face. "Only hobbits and a few men folk from Bree who trade with us."

"Tell me about it." She prompted, glad for the turn in topic.

"Well, there are many hills and flowers, and the grass is thick and green like it is here. Little ones are always running about, and the residents are very respectable. No one would associate with adventures and dwarves, but I suppose my family have always been odd and Tookish."

"You miss home? What made you leave then?"

"I do, I miss it terribly. I miss my warm hearth, my tea, my herbs and of course my soft bed. But," Bilbo tapped the end of his pipe on his chin as they watched the smoke rings disintegrate. "I was faced with the chance to discover something bigger than the Shire, and I took it. I knew I would always wonder what could have been if I had stayed."

Those words rang in Pam's ears all through the day. The sights of the Carrock Fields were all beautiful and yet too familiar, especially with the world at her doorstep. She wanted to be free, to fly out and see amazing lands and people. Who knew, maybe she could find hers and Beorn's kin? Maybe another skin changer, that wasn't a bear?

It was the last evening before the Company left.

Inside, the fire was roaring along with the laughter and merry of the travellers as they ate and gave thanks to their hosts, making the most of the last comfortable lodging they expected to have for a long time.

Fili and Kili had gallantly promised to return and bring her to Erebor _once _they reclaimed it, which would not be for many months at least. Beorn and Gandalf had cemented a pleasant companionship over the past few days.

Thorin had also (partially) dropped his cold manner and expressed his thanks, even _bowing_ to Pam (who understood this to be some form of politeness and honour now).

The night was thick in the air as she sat upon a low branch, hugging herself and looking sadly towards the forest. She had just finished feeding the ponies for their ride to the border of their lands in the morning. Pam desperately gazed towards the trees, hoping to see something out of the ordinary.

It was suffocating, to live so passively in peace; the company had been exciting and new, and soon they would be gone. She felt liking crying or maybe hitting something, she wasn't sure which though.

"Little bird, why to do fly so high?" A familiar slow rumble said. Pam looked down to seen Beorn gazing up at her with his steady gaze.

She looked away to hide her thoughts. "The view is as free as I feel."

Beorn hummed as he contemplated her reply. The air felt warm like it did inside with his proximity. They stayed in silence for a long moment before he answered. "The open air is dangerous without shelter."

"I don't think I am alive if I live my life in shelter."

"You are safe."

"I am in a slumber of it."

Many of their conversations were like this. Beorn was a words smith, a lover of books and poetry. His riddled and mysterious speech had woven its way into Pam as well, and in moments like these, it was sometimes easier to say difficult things without feeling too exposed or blunt.

"It is cold. Come inside and sleep." Beorn seemed to have decided to end their call and answering game. He turned back inside, leaving the door open in a silent order.

As she climbed down to follow him, she was only brave enough to whisper. "I hope the chill will wake me." The wind ruffled her hair so that her beads and braids clattered together in reply.

The Gundabad orcs circled restlessly, those on wargs scratching their mounts to try and tame their tempers as well as their own. Their leader glared hatefully at the stoned in settlement of the skin changer. They were so _close_ to the filth that was Thrain's heir, and yet could not cross the open land of the meadow.

And all because of Beorn, ex slave to his people and enemy to his kind.

The irony was infuriating to Azog.

A foot soldier hurried forward, having just arrived from scouting the area the entire day. He was a lighter and smaller orc to the others, but still a fighter and swift at almost 6 foot. He bowed down on one knee and spoke in the snarling language of their kind. _**"My leader. I have seen them prepare to leave. They will go in the morning light."**_

Azog turned to appraise the scout, before rumbling his approval. _**"Good. What of the Bear and the other one?" **_

"_**They will stay. I heard the half man and pup of the Bear speak. She can also skin change, though not to a Bear." **_

"_**Then what to?" **_Azog growled, still agitated but curious. The girl had been flitting about the other edges of the forest, far away enough to not entice them but still much further than the others. Perhaps they could return once Thorin was slaughtered to capture her for his amusement.

"_**It was not said, but she wore feathers in her hair, and was fast on her feet. I watched her hunt."**_ The smaller orc said.__

The vibrating of the orcs growls mingled through the air as the pale orc stared intently at the house in thought. There was movement in an orchard tree there. With his keen, frosty eyes, he saw the girl's dress whip around the air as she leaped down. For a second, she looked directly at them unseeing in the dark cover of branches and leaves before turning and entering the house. Azog watched her every movement as his mind circled darkly.

**So Pam gets ready to leave the rest. **

**God, I'm getting too into these bird puns. **

**And everyone's favourite albino orc makes an appearance! Yeah! **

**Please telling me what you think and thanks for reading **

**Love, **

**Renzin xo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own the hobbit, only my OC and this story :3 **

Chapter 4

"_**Without the quest, there can be no epiphany." **_

― **Constantine E. Scaros, ****Reflections on a Simple Twist of Fate: Literature, Art and Parkinson's Disease**

_**"It's like when a kitten tries to bite something to death. The kitten clearly has the cold-blooded murderous instinct of a predator, but at the same time, it's this cute little kitten, and all you want to do is stuff it in a shoebox and shoot a video of it for grandmas to watch on YouTube." **_

**Jesse Andrews (Me and Earl and the Dying Girl)**

She felt regret. Pam truly did, though wondered if anyone would believe her if she had told them. Or even if Beorn would.

There was a short and emotionless note left for him. She hoped that he would sadly smile in the direction she had left and wish her luck, but that would be far too out of character for her uncle. He was stubborn, like her.

Her chest ached again at that thought.

When Beorn awoke, his rage would surface like the cackling currents of a whirlpool and nothing would prevent him from dragging her back and locking her up for another 19 years of her life. Perhaps more, considering her longer lifespan to that of an unenchanted human.

But Pam couldn't have that.

As much as the thought of abandoning Beorn (was that what it was?) scratched at her insides, glimpsing the outside world so briefly to only then be hidden away would be agonising. She wouldn't survive it. _Couldn't_.

Half of her was torn between childish excitement and pride, the other guilt and nerves. Somehow, Beorn hadn't noticed the extra herbs in their tea at breakfast, even though the taste and appearance was the same. He didn't take notice when Pam had 'accidently' dropped hers and 'forgot' to pour some more for herself after cleaning the mess.

The potent warmth of the lethargic tea would hug him in a thick sleep for a week at least. Being a very large man, perhaps she had misjudged and gave him a little too much, but it wasn't harmful, she was certain.

Simply…a _concentrated_ mixture.

She couldn't feel remorse however, and for that she was glad.

For if Pam had, then her adventure would be at risk of being dulled by it and she would consider turning back and giving up to make amends. Thankfully, that idea was as repulsive as eating raw nettles, and quickened her pace.

She had hurried out of the stonewalls of Beorn's halls, the whimsically beautiful ponies' absent due to their task of carrying the Company on their backs. The sun had well passed the centre of the sky and had moved to a warm ochre shade rather that the blinding white and daisy yellow light of midday.

Pam shifted her backpack more centrally onto her shoulders and ran forward, noting how she thought of the forest being the safety against Beorn's eyes, rather than the other way around.

Luckily, her pounding excitement wasn't loud enough for her to forgo all intelligence. Pam made her way along the new and fresh trail the ponies had created on their journey into Mirkwood.

It took her several hours longer than the quick speed of a trot, but she couldn't find it in her to care. Her endurance was likely far better than the average maid of Arda, but still she stopped too many times, and didn't catch a glimpse of the party she chased.

At one point, her own stench was too much for her, and Pam ran down a short hill to bath in the river before re-joining the trail again. At the end of the forth day of travel, she reached the western eaves of Mirkwood and slept among the overgrowing vines and crumbling, abandoned elfish gateway. The empty eyes of the female statue she awoke to find staring down at her, hastened her departure further into the unknown.

The slick layer of sweat that had built up on her skin served to tighten the worn leather armour onto her body. She hadn't a clue whose it was, but it had always lain with Beorn's collection of trophies and traveller's trinkets. Perhaps it was a relative's? A mystery that her uncle never agreed to uncover. Despite it's aged stretches and battered skin, it would now see more adventure.

She had grown accustomed to walking with her bow out, always silently watching for prey. After realising how quickly her food was going, every small furry squirrel or rabbit she came across was shot at and devoured. She vowed to not touch her own supplies until absolutely necessary and begrudgedly forced herself to stomach half cooked, unseasoned meat and stale water as her diet for another 4 days.

The isolation was getting to her a little.

She liked to run off into solitude often when in the Carrock Fields, yet now longed for a sign that she was in fact going to right way. Sometimes she would lose track of the trail when some other creature's footprint blurred the mud of the path, though the familiar, heavy steps of the Company would always reappear.

Out of boredom, sometimes she would swing and leap (at first rather gracelessly and painfully) though the trees, stopping often to make sure she was still aiming in the right direction. Every time she climbed high enough to see the crowns of the trees, the sight of the Lonely Mountain sent another shock of glee through her.

8 days had passed without a sound from Beorn.

Pam was extremely lucky that he had stayed asleep this long, especially since he would be able to cross the distance in less than half the time she had, no doubt about it.

Briefly, Pam stopped to climb a tree to rest in as the rain began to fall, and then hesitated. She was still behind, and needed to close the distance between her and the Company.

With a sigh, Pam hopped back down and continued, though pulled down the large hood of her moss green cloak to allow the shards of water to attack her skin.

She grinned at the sensation, tilting her head up a little as she memorised the paths of all the trails of droplets before they soaked into her clothes.

The air was cold, yet the rain colder still as evening arrived. Pam barely noticed how the pale light tore at the shadows, elongating them and contorting the forest into something more sinister. All she could think about was how limitless this new world felt, and laugh at herself for not doing this before.

The tentacles of fear and doubt caught up with her however when the forest thickened even more, and she could barely seen her own hand in front of her.

The tracks could've fallen off the path and she would've carried straight on, blindly. Pam cursed herself and her naivety. If she had given the tea earlier to her uncle, she could've left and caught up with the others before they had even got this far.

Now, she was alone, shivering from the damp and frozen air, with no shelter or way of carrying onwards.

Her options were starting to thin out, Pam nervously thought, conceding to stop now and hurry even more the next day to make up for it. Surely the dwarves were stopping each night as well?

Her shaken nature showed when she cried out as the first branch she tried snapped under her slipping feet. Cautiously she tried again after growling at herself, burrowing into a y bend at the trunk, surrounded by amber leaves that looked murky and inky at night.

They fluttered and stroked her bare face until she calmed down enough with an internal, motivational talk to curl up and get comfortable. Her limbs were starting to complain less and less from the lack of a soft bed each morning.

Her bag cushioned her sore spine against the bark as she left it on her back, refusing to think about her whining stomach or how much better the homemade bread would taste compared to the dry mole meat she had stuffed down that day. How long did it take to contract scurvy, again?

Just as her eye lids became heavy enough to lock down into sleep, a distant yet too close for comfort roar shattered the low murmurs of the forest. Pam gasped and tensed to prevent sliding out of her canopy, terror dancing along her spine and clutching at her neck. After a moment of her brain awakening to comprehend the sound, she sighed heavily in relief, knowing that it had not been the same as Beorn's roar. He would stay asleep awhile longer.

Yet a new chill made her eyes widen, unfocused and darting about.

Orcs.

Here in the forest, where _else _would they be?!

In her idiotic, stupid, _childish _glee of finding her escape route, Pam had blindly run off after the Company, paying no heed to the fact that they themselves were being hunted. The only reason, out of sheer luck on her part that she hadn't fallen into their presence yet was likely due to the fact that the orc hunting party were heading towards the dwarves at a different angle. In their swiftness, they would probably reach them before she did.

That thought ground at Pam's gut painfully. She couldn't let that happen! If she got there first, she could warn them, and fight alongside them! Perhaps she was new to battling, but Pam was fast and was strong.

Her naivety was beautifully rare in such a dark place, yet would soon be amended.

Three more days past.

On the end of the 9th day, she heard the evidence of Beorn's awakening. It echoed across the forest and neighbouring mountains, yet thankfully was distant and proved just how far Pam had made it already. She chose to ignore the raw emotion that she could decipher in the bear's call, and pushed forward.

Finally she came across a deep and eerily bottle green river, beautiful in it's sickly nature, let the water was running low and fast, and she was parched painfully. Pam contemplated before conceding that the risk was worth it as her own stash of water had been topped up by rainfall and tiny trickling streams before.

She hesitated as she took in her surroundings, before again letting her need for hygiene get to her and stripping quickly to wash away the stink of her journey as much as possible.

It felt like pulling against a thick, oily blanket of tar as she continued away from the bank, before a heavy blow of dizziness overcame her and Pam vaguely remembered staggering and falling backwards onto her bundle of clothes and her bag. She groaned and clutched her head, but gave up trying to move when the ache grew into a pounding pain.

Pam gave in and fell asleep.

She awoke again in what she guessed were the bleary and diluted rays of what little morning light could penetrate Mirkwood's defences.

With a cry of anguish, she realised the amount of time she had wasted. If she could reach Lake Town after finding the Company, Beorn would have a much harder time apprehending her, but at the moment he had the advantage of speed and familiarity with the forest. Precious hours had been lost by her untimely napping.

Pam then realised with embarrassment that she was still naked and shivering.

She grumbled with red cheeks and dressed, thankful that the forest was not bustling like a busy town. She glared at the enchanted waters of the river, adamant that somehow bathing in it had made her unconscious.

Pam emptied all her water skins mournfully but for one. She decided that if she couldn't find another source for a while yet, then she would have to risk falling into a drugged sleep again to at least not be dehydrated. She checked her possessions were in order, counted her arrows and shouldered her bag and bow before trudging back to the path a few steps away.

That night, she was forced as usual to stop and climb a tree to rest in as the lack of light made the already hard to see and fading tracks disappear.

For some reason, due to her still sluggish, worrying and heavily clouded thoughts, she didn't notice that the light scuttling sounds that drew closer were not coming from the ground by some passing animal.

Pam didn't become wary when she first noticed the wiry and sticky oversized webs in this part of the forest, thinking that it was normal for Mirkwood's depths.

Nor could she comprehend the instant and sharp bolt of pain in her shoulder when a giant spider struck her upside down with the curved dagger of its sting.

As quickly as she felt it, her eyes rolled back as a suffocating fog covered her mind and she was pulled into unconsciousness for the second time in 2 days.

"_This one's smells good! Nice and juuuiceyyy!" _Unglair clicked to his brethren as he re-joined the nest. Saliva muted and glued several hissed syllables together, dripping onto the woven cocoon he carried.

The spider passed it with the pronged ends of his front legs to another, excitement brewing at the smell of a meal other than bony animals and squealing vermin.

"_Lot's on it! Yesss, daaaughter of men are alwayssss bigger than nasstty dwarvses!" _Fleegru ended with a snarl.

The spiders all shrieked in agreement and outrage, remembering the stinging blue sword of the creature that had stolen away their dwarf prey just the other day. Their numbers in her nest were now only 4, though many other individual nests covered the distance between Dol Guldor. Theirs had been further out on the doorstep of the elves, and had been thriving under King Thranduil's negligence until then.

"_Watch iiit! Watch, sssister! While we hunt. We musssst eaat to grow, weee must rebuild the nessst!" _Criulur added to Fleegru, while the youngest, Uralt scurried ahead.

"_Yes, yes! Bring the fleshies! Lots of meats, lots of it!" _Fleegru watch her brothers hurry away, before cooing and stroking at the cocoon she was threading to hang on another newly rebuilt web. "_I'll bet you're juicy and delliiiicious! Yesss, I can smell the blood in you, jussst ready to buuurst!" _she squealed with joy for the up and coming meal.

As Fleegru talked, viscous droplets of saliva fell onto the milky string prison. They soaked into it, flushing Pam's flesh and body in the freezing liquid.

She awoke with a lurch as Fleegru continued to chatter excitedly away, comprehending with horror what she could make out in the gaps of thread around her face. As she made eye contact with a pair of the spider's many eyes, Pam let out a piercing scream and swung her legs up together frantically, momentum hurling the tip of her boots into the jugular of the shocked spider.

Fleegru choked in surprise and stumbled away to recover as the only half finished hanging thread of Pam's cocoon snapped and sent her hurtling down to the ground. She yelled in pain as her side collided with snapping branches, getting caught several times as layers of webbing was ripped and grabbed at.

With a loud thump, Pam hit the floor and rolled further away on a slope, groaning as she came to a stop. Her entire body moaned in unison with her vocal chords. She started thrashing violently until the buckles of her belt tore a hole with friction so that she could weave her hands through to stretch it even further.

An unquenchable storm of pure fear was making Pam's heart pump at an agonising pace, her senses too alert so that even the soft rustle of leaves sounded like the crackle of death.

Stumbling to her feet, Pam spun around with wild eyes, rubbing her body to remember by the feel of her hands where her weapons were. Her backpack, while by some miracle still attached with her bow and arrows to her back, were knotted with sticky webbing and wouldn't be released fast enough. Her hands found purchase on a short and stubby dagger she used for gutting animals that had been wedged down the side of her belt.

Pam's head throbbed as it hysterically debated running randomly away or facing wherever the spider went to. The forest, once calming and liberating, felt like a cold oppressive force, squashing her-

An almost sonic, ear splitting scream was thrown at her by Fleegru as in her rage she gave away her hiding spot and launched herself down with stinger aimed for Pam's face.

Pam produced her own strangled version of a roar and hurled herself to the side of the great spider, throwing her arm out as she passed. She wasn't shamed to say she was pracitcally joyful when her foe's call of pain rang out, rather instead she turned to see Fleegru pacing wildly in circles and howling as she tried to see the long line of peeled flesh that hung long enough for one of her legs to stumble over.

Some deep and wild rushed from her core to the aching hum of Pam's brain when she locked eyes again with the beast.

Perhaps moments ago, she would've preached that many species were misunderstood and shouldn't be so venomously attacked, and she would most likely agree with that the moment she left the clearing. However with the first taste of bloodlust in her veins, with the sheer power and rawness she felt, all comprehensive thought left Pam as she rushed towards Fleegru.

At the last possible second, the great spider briefly balked at the ferocity of the human girl, and hoped that her brothers would not share her fate. But when the jagged little dagger lodged into Fleegru's throat, her last moments were of coughing up black bile and blood over a face that held satisfied, vibrating blue eyes.

Had the obviously unseasoned spider not stumbled over the many roots of the forest floor, Pam reasoned, she would be dead. Beorn would chance upon her body, or perhaps a clearing full of spiders in mid feast.

A tingle of freezing realisation ran from the sides of her scalp down her spine, causing her to roll the jumbled legs of Fleegru off of her in disgust so she could stand again.

She had been naïve running around like a child hiding and pouting from a parent. Going back was not an option.

And to survive the path ahead, she needed to make use of the skills she had been training since Pam laid eyes on a bow.

Briefly, as Pam sprinted from the clearing, the still coldly awake part of her mind noted the North Star peaking through the leaves where cracking trees pulled apart, and made her head to the northeast, hoping to intercept the path that the Company had been on.

All through the night, she moved to keeping the adrenaline in her veins, terrified of the pain that would soon replace it, and what she hoped was only the imagined scurrying of pursuing spiders.

**Hey readers, sup. **

**So she finally leaves home, bout time, huh? **

**What are your thoughts on this chapter? I would **_**love **_**to know, so please review!**

**Reviews are like what soldier pills are for shinobi, so get typing! **

**Love, **

**Renzin xo**


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